Angela Parlin

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Five-Minute Friday: Writer

April 5, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

Today’s Five-Minute Friday comes to you from a roomy bungalow situated on a breezy Costa Rican beach.

I know, I know, everyone hates me now. Last week Paris, and now this? It’s another gift-trip, and we’ve had to pinch ourselves. In between loving every minute of it.

So the writing prompt, this week, is WRITER. And I know that because I had to take a timeout this afternoon. To write.

My 3-year-old napped, and my husband and big kids took an ATV tour (with monkeys and snakes). I stole away from a handful of pools with their frozen drinks, from hangout time with friends and the kids’ nonstop laughter, from catching them sneak extra drinks at the swim-up bar and from the sunshine I’ve been desperate to meet up with again after a long, hard winter. (Northerners, I mean no disrespect. Your winter won, hands down.)

I couldn’t wait for this pocket of time, because there’s this thing I cannot shake. It won’t let me go. I have to write. I am a writer.

I look for time day after day, and don’t always find it. Because I am not only a writer. I schedule time, and it doesn’t always work out the way I plan. Sometimes, I end up writing with wrestlers grunting a few feet away or a preschooler on my lap or a little princess brushing my hair, or in between frosting bread with peanut butter and jelly, because the merry-go-round rarely stops and I can’t always find a quiet space with time attached.

But I still write, because somehow I must make sense of things and this is how I figure out what life is teaching me or where my heart is in a given moment.

My husband shakes his head and says, “Really? You really want to do that when no one is making you?” The way I shake my head about his mornings of leaving this bungalow at 5 am to spend hours in the cold, pruning water where the sharks live paddling around on a board, looking for another ride on a wave. Five AM! Did I mention that?

But yes. For both of us, the answer is yes.

Even though writing’s the thing to do these days and I don’t like doing what everyone else is doing. Even though I hate the idea of platform-building. I wanted to write at age 6, and for 30 years after. So I write.

I still don’t know what I am meant to do as a writer. I want to love God and bring Him glory, through my writing. I want to love people. I want to grow deeper faith and live it in the routine of my daily life. I want to grasp His grace, more and more. I want to help someone, anyone, with anything I can offer. You know, just a few small aspirations. 🙂

But I know, as certain as I know my name, as easy as I wear my other titles. I know because this is what I actually do, because I have always done it to some extent, because when I don’t do it, I can feel it, and it feels exactly wrong.

Because day after day, I write.

I am a Writer.

STOP.

*Find out more about Five-Minute Fridays here.

 

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To Fall In Love With Paris

April 1, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

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I’d always wanted to visit Paris. I’d toured another part of France, but had not yet fallen in love with the City of Light. With her magical avenues, delicious crepes, stone steps to climb by the hundreds, and unbelievable architecture.

It only took 4 days to fall in love with Paris. 4 hours, really, so there were days to carry on the affair. Here’s how it happened.

Day 1. After a long, “overnight”, wide-awake flight, we checked into our hotel (at 7 am) for a few hours’ sleep.

We ventured out toward Arc de Triomphe, close to our hotel. That is, if you go the right direction. 🙂 Oh you guys, it’s a glorious structure!!! Just. Oh. How do I??? You’ll have to trust me. I was TAKEN by its beauty.

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In homeschool this year, we studied all the big French stuff. Which makes me sound not smart enough to teach history, but I promise. I was interjecting historical facts all week long. DP, you’ll vouch for me on this, right? (He was impressed.)

And then we beheld the most beautiful avenue in the world. So they say, and I agree.

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The Champs Elysees, which is addicting to say when you get your French on, is lined with horse chestnut trees, cafes and luxury shops. But here’s my truth: I am not a real shopper. I do squeal over cute shoes and handbags, but I only pretended to be a shopper because it seemed like the Parisian thing to do.

Until it rained.

We ducked into an adorable pastry shop on my list of places to visit, La Duree. Which should mean Heavenly Pastries. But I don’t think it does. Looking around (read: people-watching), I learned, and you can quote me on this, Sugar is not the devil in France. People ordered multiple desserts, as well as a sugary café or chocolat chaud. I listened for accents. These were not Americans ordering the multiple desserts. How do they get away with this??? Oh yes, the walking…

We ate dinner in the Manet-Degas room at our hotel that evening with our company hosts. Catching up with some of our favorite travel buddies, we stayed awake until my eyes glazed over.

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Day 2. Tour of Il de la Cite, an island at the center of Paris, began at 9 am. Why did we sign up for this again? I will never understand because at this point my body was begging for sleep. As long as I kept moving, I was fine.

We toured Sainte Chapelle with her unforgettable stained-glass windows and the magnificent Notre Dame where a Super-Excited Catholic Girl in our group made me rehearse scenes from Superstar. Repeatedly. Remember that movie? Anyone?

To continue our perfect day in Paris, we headed to the Latin Quarter. Ate an amazing veggie burger, strolled cobblestone streets, became photo-obsessed for a short time, and then back to the hotel. Realized it was Wednesday, the Louvre stays open late, and we went for it. We loved the museum, but did not care about seeing it all. If we had, we would have hated it.

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We topped off the night with an hour-long walk…accidentally…back to Champs Elysees for a late dinner. The Chinese President was visiting Paris, so much of the street was blocked off and lined with Policie….very safe, at least. The Eiffel Tower sparkled, and that night we slept like well-fed babies. (Not newborns.)

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Day 3. Met friends for breakfast at Starbucks, our home away from home, even if my simple unsweet iced tea throws Europe for a loop. Headed off to Place de la Concorde and Tuilleres (gardens) for almost-endless photos. (Sorry honey.) Had planned to visit Musee de Orsay for the impressionists, but the rest of Paris planned the same, so we’re saving it for next time. Took a rickshaw cab back to the Latin Quarter to meet friends. Loved our hilarious driver, Igor, but learned there are “10 deaths a day” involving rickshaws in Paris, according to our chic French concierge. Enjoyed lunch with friends and a Seine bateau cruise to see it all by daylight.

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At almost evening, we did the Eiffel Tower. Climbed over 600 steps to the 2nd floor, which had me seriously doubting my belief that Paris can only be experienced in cute shoes. My feet paid the high price, but something about Paris told me to leave the workout shoes with the workout. Which is my rule in general. (I hated myself right then.) Hours later, my feet were surely BROKEN. I dreamed of Brooks running shoes and an Epsom salt bath, and didn’t even care about dinner. Not only because of the tower, but all the other hours of walking. In cute shoes. Nonetheless, a good night’s sleep does a body good.

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Day 4. Are you Friday? Adrenaline, one more day, yes?

I kept trying to pick favorites. Impossible! But Montmartre, the highest point in the city, was most definitely my favorite. We headed to Sacre Couer (cathedral) with friends, and I’m not sure there could be a more beautiful structure. Have I used that line yet? I’m serious. Unbelievable.

 

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And then on to Place du Tertre, the square where artists gather….my people. I could not wait. There was another slight directional mixup involving hundreds of stairs in cute shoes. Again. It turned out, my people were a group of old men with long gray, matted, messy hair and paintbrushes. But I felt a connection.

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We spent our last evening cruising the Seine, looking forward to the people we call home, and dreaming of all the places we’d go on our next trip to Paris-dise. 4 days in Paris is totally doable, if you have littles back home you can’t stand to leave for much longer. Totally enough time to fall in love with Paris. Au Revoir!

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The Art of Changing Thoughts

March 20, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

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First, the blue socks. They were too long, and he hated them.

Then, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. He didn’t want that. *Insert fit.*

Next, the green dinosaur shirt with 2 buttons at the top. He liked the shirt before he put it on. It made him roar. He liked the shirt 18 other times he wore it. But not today. The buttons bothered him. Not just bothered, he hated the buttons.

I tried to convince him to thank God instead. (But he hated that idea.)

So I told him to repeat me, It’s going to be okay.

Again and again he grudgingly said it, with an angry face, slowly softening. In a voice so delicious, I would bottle it. Suddenly, all was good, and he bounded off, yelling happily about race cars.

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This morning, he needed a little repeat-session again. It’s going to be okay…It’s going to be okay.

The repetition is no magic answer that will cancel all fits beginning tomorrow. But it’s a start. And the more I walk through this with him, I realize, I need it too.

Because I run through days, thinking and feeling, and sometimes I get pretty tangled. I don’t go around telling myself what to think very often. {This is why the lies I owned as a little girl were still kicking and screaming in me up until–oh, last summer.} (Read about that here and here.)

I knew the truth. But I needed to rinse the lies away thoroughly, and repeat truth until it played on auto.

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You and I may not turn all huffy-face because of socks that don’t fit right. But there are things, no?

I live in a wonderfully noisy home dominated by not-so-orderly boys. So, there’s a thing or two to get all hot and bothered about. Once in a while. (They’re laughing.)

And then what happens? I suddenly develop great focus and concentration. I think about the bothers, only the really important ones. I try to change them. I pray about them. I write something up on the kitchen dry erase board to remind my people to change!!! I try to inspire change. Or just force it.

But recently, it hit me. Shoot. I need to gulp down a little dose of, It’s going to be okay. Or some other line I don’t overuse. It just might be the secret weapon in my own mental battles.

Think about it differently. Think on something different altogether.

Change–your–thoughts.

Now I would love to hear from you. Do you struggle with tangled thinking? Discontent? Ungratefulness? Lies? When you’re THERE, how do you turn yourself around and change your thoughts?

And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.  Philippians 4:8, NLT

Thank you for stopping by my blog today. If you’d like to receive my weekly posts in your email inbox, click the Follow button to the right.

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Oops, We Did It Again

March 10, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

IMG_1125I was going to ask, Do you ever…? But instead, how often do you completely overdo your weekend? Because oops–we did it again.

This morning, it showed. It was ugly. Not one child wanted to get up, so there was coaxing, soft and sweet at first. I always begin this way. It doesn’t often yield the intended result. So I persist, in between trying to get my own overtired self ready.

Then I flip lights on, hard and fast–the morning kiss of death. I hate bright lights in the morning. Sunlight coming in the windows? Yes, love. But manufactured overhead lights? Oh, please no! Anything but that!!!

Then my voice gets higher and louder. And I issue threats. Do you need to lose {fill in the blank} this afternoon? If you don’t get up and get ready, YOU WILL, buddy. TRY ME.

The threat works. Shew! They forgot how inconsistent I tend to be. They believed I would remember to carry it out. Thanks for the confidence, kids.

With the seriously amazing, above-and-beyond help of my husband (He is the greatest!!!), all we tired people have gotten to school or work or the quiet café this morning. But we’re feeling Monday. The late nights because of sleepovers and long dinners with friends and a handful of basketball games played or cheered for (GO DUKE!), and then rounding it out with the Food Truck Rodeo yesterday afternoon…Wow. That was a weekend!

I sat cozied in my car a few extra minutes this morning, asking God to help me live in the light of His presence today. To help me not to ignore Him as I walk through “my” day. I know that sounds wrong, that I might ignore God, but sometimes I do. I focus on what I need to get done. I just get moving, and I forget Him until I need Him.

That’s my sometimes truth, and I’m sad it’s true, but it still is. What’s beautiful is this: God is not thrown off by my inconsistencies. He is not overshadowed by my weaknesses. He doesn’t go away, even when I do.

Instead, God hears me, from a car polluted by kid shoes, loom bands, water bottles, paper scraps, messy windows, and a hundred pieces of crayola. A car I told my little sweethearts to “clean out before they get out” yesterday, but clearly, not a car I followed up on.

I sat there praying, and He filled me. It’s hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t know what it is to be filled by God. But that’s what happened. I entered His presence, staring at one of the many messes in my life, but when I fixed my eyes on the God of the Universe, my whole tired outlook changed.

Suddenly I noticed the air full of spring. Birds flitting about a sky more blue than winter. It’s Monday, yes, and I love this world we get to live in. I love the Creator Who spoke it into being and gave us all a speaking part. My heart turned grateful again, and my lips spilled it for a while.

Thank you, Father, for Mondays and spring and messes and all the loves this tiredness represents. Thank you, Father, for YOU and this life…and everything.

God bless you, truly, this overtired Monday…

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If We Only Knew {& Movie Ticket Giveaway}

February 26, 2014 By: Angela Parlin

It was all very good. They’d been gifted Eden. Placed amid perfect beauty we cannot imagine. They walked with God, blessed and flourishing.

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Nothing about God changed, but they changed. They listened to their Father’s enemy, the enemy of their souls. He deceived them, by accusing God of impure motives.

The deceiver accused, and creation listened, touched, consumed, worshiped. Then they realized what they’d done and felt shame. So they hid.

God didn’t walk away. He came to them and asked, Where are you?

Of course He knew.

What is this you have done?

I could read this a lot of different ways. I know what the enemy says. He says God is like an arresting officer. He came to uncover their wrongdoing, kick them out, and curse them. But the enemy lies.

God came broken-hearted.

Loving Father came to His own babies, for whom He’d gone to great lengths to prepare something better. He held in His heart the truth of their response to Him. They did not obey Him; they did not trust Him. They followed someone else–His greatest enemy. He grieved.

God longed for their love and fellowship. He wanted them to stay within His motivated by love boundaries. He wanted them to enjoy beauty He’d made for them, and to enjoy relationship with Him. But they went a different way.

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He sent Jesus many years later, so that all, through Jesus, might believe. Jesus lived among human beings, and suffered here, to make the One true God known to His creation.

Before Jesus laid down His life to redeem us, He wept over Jerusalem, His beloved city, confirming God’s heart toward the disobedient, the unbelieving.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings,

But you were not willing. (Matthew 23:37)

Jesus came because our Father in heaven is not willing that any of {us} should perish. (Matthew 18:14)

The enemy opposes God’s redemption plan. He cannot overcome the light of Jesus, but he fights it hard. Along with rulers of the darkness of this world, He maligns God and deceives His creatures. The enemy hopes to keep us from knowing God’s true heart and character. To hold us back from fully understanding God’s love.

For God’s love, mercy, and kindness lead us to repent and know God’s heart.

Praying for myself today, and anyone who reads this, that we’ll grasp {more fully} the width and length and height and depth of the love of Christ. That we’ll walk with our Father, blessed and flourishing, never turning away to deception, never hiding.

** I have 4 tickets to the movie, Son of God, to give away to 2 commenters. To be entered in the drawing, leave me a favorite verse from the book of JOHN in the comments. I’ll choose winners Friday at midnight. Movie opens Friday February 28, and tickets can be used through May.

**Update: Congratulations to Mike D. and Amanda S.–you have won the movie tickets! Look for my email!

 

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Welcome to My Blog, So Much Beauty In All This Chaos~

I'm so glad you stopped by my little corner of the internet, where I write about the chaos of life & all the beauty we find, especially as we fix our eyes on Jesus. Thank you for sharing any posts you enjoy on social media. I'm so glad you're here!

~Angela
angela (at) angelaparlin (dot) com

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